Run
by Aeres
Summary: Rhonda Clay starts to question her sanity when she sees things in the dark.
1. Chapter 1 - Prelude

About this story

This is a Supernatural fanfic. I have some sort of a plot in my mind, but I don't know where it leads yet. Any romance included would be Castiel/oc (and probably Dean/any girl willing), but as I said, I don't know what will happen.

I try to rate this story as accurately as possible, but I'm not going to warn you about every single thing. I'd say that (for now) this story is suitable for anyone over 15. Violence will eventually be included, that I know for sure (hey, Supernatural fan fic, what did you expect?).

I'm not sure _when_ this story is happening. Probably around seasons 4 and 5. I won't alert you about spoilers.

The story will be told in the first person aspect of this oc, Rhonda.

And, uh, English ain't my first language, as you probably can tell. Please inform me if you find any major bloopers in my text.

1

* * *

I was running downhill. My fingers and the tip of my nose still felt very cold, but otherwise I was burning up. I was already running faster than I had probably ran in years, but every time my foot left the ground I only brought it down faster. Soon the air would start to burn in my lungs, but for now I was breathing fine. Even though my heart beat was fast it was not painful, the opposite - I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so alive and triumphant. Leaves got tangled to my hair and sharp branches carved my skin where it was bare, only to leave red scratches as I ran down and down the hill.

I came to a clearing that was covered in erratic boulders, and somewhere at the back of my mind I feared my foot could get caught between them, but I kept running. I jumped from rock to rock (I almost slipped on one that was covered on loose moss, and once I had to take support from one that was standing higher that the others) and soon I was evading the trees on the other side of the clearing.

The feeling that kept me running was changing. Every new breath stung in my lungs, and my muscles started to rebel against my sudden dash through the woods. I couldn't bring up my pace any longer: I had to struggle to keep it steady. It was harder and harder not ignore the pulse in my head saying I was going to hurt myself badly doing this. The forest was already thinning around me, and in couple of minutes I would hit the habited area. I could already hear a dog barking in the distance, and I slowed my pace a little.

I was going to run all the way home but in my exhaustion I stumbled upon a root and I went down heavy.

I cursed when my right arm took most of the impact, and gasped when pain stung on my left thigh. I went over couple of times before I hit a tree. Then I just lay there panting for a while. I wasn't feeling that thrilled anymore now that my run came to an end, but dopamine still running through my veins eased the pain a little. I started checking my limbs, starting with my right hand. I left out a sight or relief when I discovered it undamaged (I'd have hell of a bruises later, but at least it was not broken or anything), and carefully went through rest of me. My jumper had protected my arms and back from the little rocks. I'd be limping home, but my leg should be okay after taking it easy a couple of days. I gave myself a little snort and leaned back against the tree that was standing unaffected and waved it leaves with the other trees. The pulse within my skull that kept telling me '_told you so_' started to fade away as my heartbeat slowed down. My painful gasps turned to regular breathing as I watched a jogger go by in the distance.

Sitting there alone I begun to mock myself. I hadn't really thought it through when I started down the hill. I had decided for once to have a healthy little walk in the nature. I'm no athlete - the opposite. I spend more time on my computer than is healthy, and I don't really keep track on what I eat. I used to have luxurious thick hair but I ruined it by bleaching it (now it's my natural brownish blond again). I have hard time finding fitting clothes because of my long back, wide instep and my picky taste.

Speaking of my back…

As I got up I felt a sharp pain in my side. I lifted my right arm and carefully twisted my torso to see better. Astonished, I brought down my arm and cautiously touched the small object sticking out just below my rib cage. The pain was caused by what seemed to be a rusty 4-inch-long nail. I moaned aloud and took another look at it. I didn't know how deep it went, and curses, I hoped the nail didn't infect me with anything. I remembered my uncle telling me you could get the HI-virus from stepping on a nail, and I shivered.

I stood there a minute rolling my head from side to side. I could probably just pull the nail out myself, but I was beginning to panic that I _was_ infected with something deadly and after seven days, I would die alone and painfully in my flat…

Sorry. That's The Ring.

_Way to go, Rhonda_, I clapped at myself. I started at the sounds of the highway. It took me maybe five minutes to get to the road and another five to get to my flat. I only grabbed my buss card and glanced myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, and I picked out couple of suffered leaves. I frowned at the nail in my side. Now there was a dark, slowly spreading wet ring around it. I was sweaty and dirty and I so wanted to get into a hot bath, but I turned around and marched to the nearest buss stop.

I was afraid that people would stare at me and scream 'Oh my god, is that a nail in your side?' but I don't think anybody noticed. I sat still until I got to the health centre, walked in and told the receptionist that I had a nail in my side that I wanted out. I think he had seen a lot weirder cases than mine; he didn't even blink when he told me that I could just go and sit in the waiting lobby until somebody's come and get me. He gave me a bandage I could press against the wound, and I walked away without saying anything.

I was already feeling uneasy when I sat beside a mother who at times whispered angrily at his son, who looked miserable. I got the impression he had swallowed something when he was told not to, and now it wouldn't come out without helping. I just stared at my feet and tried to block out all the strangers in the room. I wasn't any good around people I didn't know, even when I didn't interact with them.

At times I glanced around to see people walk away with doctors or nurses or whoever came to get them. I took a peek at the nail. The blood on my jumper was not spreading anymore now that I had the bandage I gently pressed against it. I paid little attention to the patients but I concluded that there were only two doctors taking people in at the clinic. Yeah, well, Tuesday afternoon was not probably their busiest time this far from Denver.

I was wrong about the amount of doctors present. A face I hadn't seen before walked a suit man to the front doors, shared some words with the porter and called out.

"Do we have Clay, Rhonda here?" he called out again. Startled I clumsily rose from my chair. I'd been deep in my thoughts and I hadn't realized he'd called for me. I sheepishly followed the doctor to an examination room, where he poked at my nail and assured me I had nothing to worry about. After he removed the nail (it hurt, but it would have hurt a lot more if I'd removed it myself) he cleaned the wound and but two stitches on it. He also took a blood sample to calm me down. I'd get the results before the week would be out, he said, and handed me some papers to fill. I nodded, feeling a little silly now, and after filling the papers I wished him a good day and took my leave.

It was around three o'clock in the afternoon when I walked out, but the sky had filled with dark clouds that blocked out the sun. I had promised to go out with Jane and the gang this evening, and I pursed my mouth at the clouds. I guess I wouldn't have felt like going anyway, with the hill and nail, but I didn't like the idea of rain this evening anyway. I lived in a 15-story-apartment building, on the 12th floor, and I enjoyed the view I had from my windows. Rain would turn everything gray and depressing, and I'd end up spending the night watching my guilty pleasure series - again. With a sigh I started towards the stop.

...

I woke up to the sound of thunder that spooked the hell out of me. For a fraction of a second I just stared at the wall I was facing, and then I jumped to a vertical position and glanced wildly around the room. The sudden movement made my side throb, but I just stared into the dark corner behind my wardrobe. For the second time that day, my heart was racing again. The storm was right over me.

An abrupt lightning lit the room with its white light, and suddenly the only shadow in the room was cast by the character beside my wardrobe. It was smiling, its teeth shining white as a contrast to the gleaming, black eyes. In its hand, it held a long bloody nail, spinning it over and over and over.

The flash of light faded with a loud rumble, and I was left blinded in the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2 - Still not getting it

2

* * *

My fingers first stumbled against the desk beside my table, and then tried to find the switch of the lamp. It took me two tries before the room was lit in warm yellow light, and I felt like screaming even though there was no one there. The thunder made the lamp fickle as I carefully removed my blanket and snuck across the room. The corner was empty, but my heart was thudding almost painfully inside me, as if it was trying to run away. I took long, deep breaths to calm myself, but I didn't quite success in it.

If there were anyone there, they'd be in my wardrobe. I grasped the handle of the wardrobe's door and pulled it open with more force than necessary.

Empty. Huh.

I looked around in the room, still feeling startled. Then, of course, there was enough room beneath my bed for someone to hide…

I stood still good long minutes. My legs were shaking and there was numbness in my fingers. I slowly started at the bed, silently placing one foot before the other. When I was standing next to it, with one, smooth movement, I jumped on my bed, got under the sheets and turned off the light on the table. I made sure the blanket covered every inch of me, and turned to face the wall.

I clamped my eyes shut. There had never been anyone besides me in that room. No one could have entered the room without waking me up. When I'd look under the bed in the morning, there would be no one there either.

I pulled my legs closer to me and tried to fall asleep despite the raging thunder.

...

The first thing I did in the morning was to look under my bed.

There were three socks, dust bunnies, couple of magazines, printed guitar tabs and more dust. No signs of anyone habituating it last night. I made an awkward somersault to the floor and lay there for a moment. Stupid stupid stupid. It felt so silly now, that anyone'd break into my apartment.

"It must have been like one of those dreams I had when I was a teen," I told Miranda later when I paid for our coffee at Starbucks.

"Like the one where you held hands with your crush-of-the-year, and started crying when you woke up?" she asked half kidding, half worried. I chuckled to my coffee: of course she'd remember the romantic ones.

"More like the one where I was chased by millions of Lego men who tried to kill me," I answered when we sat down next to the modern sculpture that looked like an expressionist phallus to me. "It's been years since I last saw a dream this vivid."

"I'd be happy to have a dream that wouldn't be interrupted by a crying midget," Miranda said sadly and took a sip of her latte with a loud 'slurp'. "I swear - last night, Captain freaking America, he has me swapped up on his arms and - poof, she starts to cry and wakes me up! You know, I love her like my own-"

"She IS your own..."

"...but sometimes I just wish her dad would be a mafia hobo who'd decide that it's best to raise her midst another gangsters for her to become a ninja assassin, and he'd just take Ollie away for a month or two, and bring her back saying, 'sorry hon, our daughter's a sissy, she'll never inherit the family,' and she'd be nice and quiet after everything she's seen."

"Yeah, everyone else gets their kids grown up like that, why shouldn't you?" I asked as I threw some crumbs to the birds nearby. I was glad I had called Mira the second it was decent to call anyone on Wednesday morning. She wasn't my therapist and I didn't intend to make her one, but she always made me feel that it was normal to doubt your sanity every so often.

"Dudette, tell me about it! Sometimes I wish I hadn't given her birth at all, girl - just think about how horrible kids have it these days."

"I still think that I'm a kid myself," I said. "I don't understand how you or anyone younger than me's able to look after something that will grow up twisted no matter what you do."

"Thanks for the encouragement!" Mira laughed as she wiped some sprinkles from her dress.

Although Miranda managed to lift my spirits for the day, I was feeling nervous when the sun started to set. I hoped I wouldn't get any more nightmares that week, they always puzzled and disturbed my routines. I planted my hand above the wound at my side. It only hurt as I moved, but it didn't bother me much. Miranda had gasped when I told her about my dash down the hill ("What if the nail had dug into your head!") and then gently laughed at me.

...

I was closing the curtains when she sent me a message.

_'Olivia's gone. I need you, NOW.'_

I called her back many times as I worked my way to her place. Sometimes she was talking to someone else, and if she wasn't, she left my calls to her voice mail. I tried to call her husband, Greg, but his phone was occupied too. Cloudy sky reflected the lights of the city, making them look reddish. Finally the bus got me two streets away from Miranda's small house and I ran the rest of the way. There was a police car and an ambulance outside, and my heart got stuck in my chest. Not that I'd ever believed that Miranda would joke about something like this, but seeing the cars I finally started to get afraid. Were they hurt? Who would do this to them?

A police officer with gray mustache and gentle Latin eyes came to open the door when I pushed the doorbell three more times than I normally would. I think he was expecting me since he only said low 'hello' and took me to the living room, where Miranda was rocking on the edge of the sofa as two paramedics were patching up her husband, who waved me weakly with his hand. I glanced nervously at the second policeman who was making a call in the kitchen (I've never done anything I should be nervous about around cops, but you know, the feeling) and walked to Mira who reached out to me and gripped my hands firmly. I looked from her to Greg and to the policeman who'd let me in, unsure who to address when I asked "What happened?"

Miranda took a shaky breath and began to tell. It took her some time, she started to cry a few times and sobbed hard occasionally. "I was in garage, washing laundry, when the door to kitchen closed. You know, it happens all the time, so I didn't mind because I had me keys, but when I finished and tried to get in there was something against the door, and I couldn't get out. I shouted Greg, but he didn't answer, and I tried to lift the garage door but it wouldn't budge, and I banged it and shouted but nobody heard, and it was, I don't know, half an hour maybe? Then Greg got the door open and he was bleeding on the head, and we couldn't find Ollie, and we ran to neighbors and they hadn't seen a thing, and she's gone, Roo, she's gone and I don't know what they-" She finally broke down and I tried to console her rubbing her neck.

Greg had couple of times looked as if he meant to interfere or tell his side of the events, but every time he had closed his mouth and looked away. They had hit him from behind, it seemed. I knew he was good at self-defense, he went to train kung fu every week, and that he hadn't been able to anything to prevent this weighed heavy on him. The paramedics had finished with his head and he was playing with a strand of his long hair, looking grimly at the floor. The cops were talking in the kitchen and the paramedic turned their attention to Miranda (she wasn't physically hurt, but they talked with her, tried to make her process the incident).

I could only imagine what they were going through. Greg stood up and started to wander around their home, unable to sit still any longer. I felt like going out to search for Olivia, but I doubted we'd find her from any bush. The medics started to pack their stuff as the policeman with mustache walked over.

"The reinforcements are on their way. So far we have found no signs of break in…" He paused for a moment. "It looks like we are dealing with professionals here. They must have been watching your movements. You don't recall any cars tailing you or oddly behaving characters around your child, or anything…?"

"No, nothing," Greg grunted as Miranda shook her head. "No one we know would ever do something like this… Why would anyone steal our kid?" he demanded, but no one had the answer.

Well, I had wild guesses, but they wouldn't have lifted anyone's spirits.

More officers came, and sometimes a neighbor would come by and ask what was with all the official vehicles outside. Men and women with their equipment searched the doors and windows and every nook and inch for clues. Greg would shout and Miranda cry when they were questioned more. As hours passed and people came and went, I dusted off my fingers and led Miranda to their bedroom. She started to cry again as she saw the empty cradle. I watched as she took her sleeping pills (Greg refused to get any sleep) and I lay on his side of the bed until she drifted off to sleep. I went to bid Greg and the only officer remaining (not the mustache one) good night. I was staying over, as they asked. I had nothing with me, so I'd need to sleep with my top and be smelly until I'd have time to go grab some essentials from my flat. I left the men talking in lowered voices and headed for the bathroom to wash my face. I locked the door behind me and let the water run into the sink as I stared at my reflection.

Miranda and Greg, they both had this wild look in their eyes, as if they were ready to rip something apart in order to find their child. I didn't look much, tired perhaps, and a little messy, but I could feel the knot in my stomach to know I was afraid. I was afraid of what this event would leave my best friend with, afraid of - so many things, all building up, collapsing together. I splashed some water on my face and rubbed off my worn make up. My top got some water on it but I just couldn't have cared less.

That is, until the dim light started to flicker and go out.

* * *

Author's note:

I meant this chapter to be even longer, but I decided this was long enough as it is. And it's past my bedtime. Good-night y'all.

Up and coming in next chapter: deeemons. Ho ho ho.


End file.
